


The Barter System

by luxover



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 14:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxover/pseuds/luxover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Girl!Louis and Harry, at home in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Barter System

Louis wakes up earlier than usual because she forgot to close the blinds and the sun is in her eyes. She tries to ignore it, pulls the covers up over her head and turns to face the other way, but now that she's up, she can't fall back asleep, and that's that. She crawls out of bed and tugs on some sweatpants—they're a bit too tight in the hips, and probably not hers—and then she thinks, _Cereal._

Her room is an absolute mess, and Louis has to step over clothes and shoes, and kick aside a rubber chicken just to be able to open her door. It takes a lot out of her, to be honest, because she's only just woken up, and so she stands in the hallway for a second, leans against the wall as she runs her fingers through her hair in an attempt to get it to lie flat. The attempt fails miserably, which doesn't really matter at all, because the only other person in the house is Harry, and his hair's always a mess. So. Louis doesn't really mind.

It's not a surprise, when she gets to the kitchen, to find that all they have left of the cereal is the empty box, and that they have two spoiled and unopened cartons of milk shoved all the way to the back of the fridge; she and Harry like to see who can catch more pieces of dry cereal in their mouth without letting any touch the ground, and Harry's currently winning with a record of twenty-three in a row. It's beyond unfair, and Louis suspects that he practices at night, when she's in bed. So she makes toast instead, one slice in each of the toaster's four slots, and then she covers two of them with orange marmalade, and two with raspberry preserves.

Louis takes a bite of toast with raspberry preserves as she walks into the living room. Harry's asleep on the floor by the couch, and she stands over him for a second, eating her toast and debating whether or not to wake him up, before finally giving in and poking him in the cheek with her toe.

"Rise and shine, sweet thing," she sing-songs, and Harry just swats her foot away and rolls over.

"No," he says, but it sounds a lot more like, "Nngghh." Louis figures she's very lucky that she happens to speak fluent Harry.

She pokes him with her toe again.

"Is that your foot?" Harry asks.

"No," Louis says, and Harry makes a face like he doesn't know whether to smile or be annoyed.

"That's really gross," he says, and he sits up, moves the short distance from the floor to the couch. He tucks his knees up, making sure that there's enough room for Louis, and so she sits down, and when Harry stretches his legs out over her lap, she rests the toast plate on his shins.

"Luckily you love me enough to let me get away with it," Louis says, and then she jokes, "Did you know that if you live here, you get a room with a bed in it and everything?"

"Bond marathon," Harry explains. "These things happen."

"Ah," Louis says, starting in on her second piece of toast. "The annual ritual of the British male."

"Yeah," Harry says.

They sit there for a minute after that, neither of them saying anything, just Louis eating her toast and Harry lying there with an arm over his eyes. But then Harry sits up, leans his weight back on his elbows, and says, "Wanna give me a piece of toast?"

Louis smiles cheekily at him and asks, "And what do I get in return?" She waggles her eyebrows at him, even though sexual innuendo doesn't make him blush anymore, not like it did back at the X Factor mansion.

"Nothing," Harry says. "This isn't the fucking barter system."

"What?" Louis says, and she looks around the room like she's only just realizing where she is. "Then what am I doing here?"

Harry laughs a little, the type of laughter that's mostly just a rush of air out his nose, and says, "C'mon."

Louis sighs like it's a big hardship, sharing her toast, but she slides her plate over anyways.

"You're the best," Harry says, and he grabs a piece. When he takes a bite, he fixes her with a surprised look and says, "Marmalade?" It's his favorite, she knows.

"I don't know how you eat it," Louis says. "So gross." And it's true; she hates orange marmalade, and the only reason it's on two pieces of the toast is because the toast was for him in the first place.

"You'll come around to it," Harry says to her, like he knows everything. And then, "Oh, hey. I was looking for those sweatpants." He jerks his chin towards the pair that she's wearing.

"Finders, keepers, Harry Styles," Louis says, and she tugs on a loose curl of Harry's hair.

"Alright," Harry agrees around a mouthful of toast. "You left Kevin in my room; I found him last night."

"Barter system," Louis rushes, her words overlapping with the last few of Harry's. "Sweatpants for Kevin."

Harry just laughs.


End file.
